Pinned Down
by PeregrineTook
Summary: In which Kvothe is cornered by three lovely ladies and forced to explain his fear of commitment. Set after WMF. One-shot.


Thanks to my growing reputation as a talented arcanist, lutist, and lover, I eventually gained the attention of three women at once.

It was not as pleasant as it sounds.

Anker had closed his doors for the night and was tidying the bar with the half-hearted air of a world-weary innkeeper who knows it will all end up back on the counter tomorrow. I was lounging at a table nearby, helping him finish off an odd assortment of bottles he had declared unworthy of re-shelving. We shared such quiet moments often during my last term at the University. They gave Anker the chance to proselytize on the finer points of beercraft and gave me the chance to relax after a long day at the Fishery.

"—nothing but a full-bodied porter. So the next time some stuffed-up gadfly tells you it's got something to do with the barley—" Anker was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

"We're closed," he shouted. "And full to the rafters to boot, if you're looking for a stay."

A woman's voice floated through the door. "I'm sorry to call so late. I was hoping to speak with Kvothe."

"Well, in that case." Anker grinned at me. "You've been keeping busy," he said cheerfully. "Hope she's as pretty as the sweet little thing that called on you last week."

I fought back a laugh. _Devi, sweet? _I'd known feral cats with less bite. Anker strolled to the door, winking at me before swinging it open.

Mola stood in the doorway, shivering from the cold. Under the soft firelight of the common room, her expression was hard. I jumped up from my chair, surprised. Had I offended her somehow? "Mola! I didn't expect to see you tonight. Is something wrong?"

She glanced sideways at Anker. "Well, I was hoping we could talk in private."

"Of course." I ushered her towards the stairs. Anker raised his eyebrows at me as I passed. I grimaced and shrugged, following Mola with no small amount of trepidation. I wondered what could possibly have gone wrong in the twenty-odd hours since I'd seen her last.

She paused when we reached the top of the stairs. I stepped forward to unlock the door—only to find that it wasn't locked. Swallowing a sudden spike of panic, I pulled her behind me and withdrew the small blade I kept strapped to my leg for emergencies. She gasped, tugging at my sleeve. "Kvothe, there's no need—"

"Shhh," I hissed. I threw the door open, bracing for an attack.

"Hello, Kvothe." Fela said. She stood by my desk, running her nails along the soft black leather of my lute case. I started to relax, until I saw the look on her face. Her stare could have sawed a cinder block in half.

"Hello," I said warily, glancing around. Devi was there, too, sitting on my bed and trimming her nails with a small clip-point knife. I had a sudden suspicion as to how they had broken in. Mola hovered by the door, looking more guilty than angry. Devi was suppressing a grin, but I knew better than to find that comforting. I tucked my knife away, feeling foolish.

"Why the theatrics?" I asked slowly.

Fela picked at the threads on my lute case, and I cringed. "Mola tells me you spent the night together."

I blinked. "That's true …"

"She also tells me you didn't _stay_ the night."

"Uh …"

"'Snuck out like a thief,' actually, is what she said."

Mola winced. "I didn't put it quite like …"

"Hush, Mola, let me take care of this." Fela turned to face me, crossing her arms. Her eyes bore into mine. Her gaze didn't turn my guts to jelly the way Elodin's did when he was digging for my name, but it was a close thing.

_Is that all this is about? Not spending the night?_ I held out my hands in protest. "I didn't mean anything by it. Honestly, Mola, last night was … incomparable. If I had half your skill with my tongue, I'd be singing Tintatatornin instead of playing it. I just … "

Fela's eyes widened, and Devi chuckled. Mola blushed, and I reprimanded myself. This wasn't Ademre or the Fae, where such things were spoken of freely. I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." I paused. "You know, I probably have a bit too much of Anker's beer in me right now. How about we reschedule this hijacking for sometime a little more—"

"Yes, because you're much more tactful when you're sober," Fela snapped.

My temper flared hotly, and I scowled back at her. "Fine. You want to talk now? Then we'll talk. If you must know, I had somewhere to be this morning."

"You mean in the middle of the night?"

"I wouldn't call it middle of the night. Before sunrise, yes."

"Really? And what was so important that you had to sneak from Mola's bed to do it?"

"I didn't _sneak._ And it's none of your damn business if I did, so why —"

"Keep digging your own grave, won't you?" Devi chimed in from the bed. "It's so much fun to watch." She sat up, leaning towards me with interest. "Wow. They're right, your eyes really do go dark when you get angry."

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a steadying breath. "I am _not_ angry. I just don't like being _lectured_ by the people _who broke into my_ —"

Mola touched my shoulder. I whirled around, ready to give as good as I got. But the expression in her eyes was more hurt than angry. "I'm just asking for an explanation, Kvothe."

She stared me down until my guilt caught up with my temper and I thought better of saying something incredibly stupid. I sighed. "I'm sorry, Mola. I really didn't mean anything by it. I just left a little early this morning to practice the Ketan. I practice every morning, out in the woods."

"What is the Ketan?"

Fela snorted. "It's an Adem sword ritual."

Mola frowned in disbelief. "Why would you perform an Adem sword ritual?"

"I made a promise to my teachers in Ademre," I explained. "in exchange for the honor of keeping one of their swords. Now I'm duty-bound to —"

"Merciful Tehlu, Kvothe," Fela said tiredly. "You make it sound like some terrible destiny. You're a student, not an Adem mercenary. You could have gone one day without practicing your stupid swordplay."

"It's not—" I objected, then immediately thought better of it. What was I going to tell them, that I had to stay vigilant so that I might survive when I faced the Chandrian at last?

Silence lingered. Three pairs of eyes stared at me expectantly. "Fine, it wasn't just that," I admitted finally.

"Ha!" Fela said.

Mola squared her shoulders, as if bracing for a physical blow. "Was I really that terrible?"

"No! God, no. Really, Mola. You were … I mean … Look, I just can't sleep there. It's hard to explain."

"Try," Fela said flatly.

"I don't know!" I said, frustrated. "It's a lot of things."

"Like what, exactly?" Mola said.

"Gah, it's _everything_. You sleep on the third story. The stairs don't creak. Your roof has clay tiles. Your windows don't open – "

"What does any of _that _have to do with the price of butter?"

"—and your bed is too soft. I feel like I'm drowning in a pond of dead geese."

Mola lips quirked up. "Would you rather sleep on the floor?"

Devi flounced up and down on my bed frame, which was covered only by a thick wooden blanket. "You know, I think he might. This bed is harder than Stonebridge."

"You're not helping," I snapped.

Devi smiled sweetly. "Who said I was trying to?"

"That's enough, you two." Mola took me by the shoulders and looked me squarely in the eye. "I'm just asking for the truth, Kvothe. You're telling me you didn't stay because you don't like my room?"

I groaned softly. "It's not like that. I just mean that I don't sleep well in strange places. I … " It took me the span of three long breaths to build up the courage to admit what I'd been avoiding saying since they cornered me. The reason I would never stay the night with any woman in Imre, even if she had Felurian's appetite and a second-story window with a trellis that ran all the way to the ground. "I get nightmares."

"So what? Everyone get nightmares."

"Not like this."

Fela rolled her eyes. "We know you're a trouper at heart, Kvothe, but you could try being a little less melodramatic."

"You don't understand," I snapped. I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to find the words to explain. How I often woke up several times a night, covered in a sour sweat and tasting iron because I'd bitten holes in the inside of my cheek. How I sometimes cried out in my sleep and shook so violently that Anker's guests complained there were great bats living in the attic. How some nights I heard Cinder's voice in the darkness, promising to find me. How I couldn't fall sleep without a gram tied to my arm and good steel under my pillow.

I closed my eyes, fighting against my own silence. I envisioned the wall I'd built in my mind when I was eleven, the towering monstrosity of bone and blood that held back the flood of memories I feared even more than I feared the Chandrian. It was stronger than my Alar. It was as strong as my will to survive. I dug my fingers into the splintered mortar, and I willed myself to explain.

Nothing.

I opened my eyes again to find Mola staring at me, her expression deadly serious. "You don't mean nightmares, do you?" she said. "You mean flashbacks."

I shook off the gruesome vision I'd painted in my mind. "I don't know. What's a flashback?"

"Its … like a memory, but more vivid. Like you're reliving something that happened to you in the past, only you can't tell what's real and what's in your head. They're often worst at night, when you're alone and not focusing on anything in particular. They can be … frightening for the people around you. Dangerous, even, if you think you're in peril."

I blinked, startled by how perfectly she had described the apparitions I had come to think of as waking nightmares. "I assumed … does_ everyone_ get them?"

"No," she said gently. "They're sort of unique to people with really violent pasts."

I stilled.

"You know," she prompted, "like a teenager that shows up to the university covered in knife scars …"

"They aren't knife scars," I protested. "Mostly. And I don't have that many—"

Devi sprang from the bed, staring at me like I was growing heads. "Lord and lady, you really were a street child!"

My throat suddenly felt very dry. "Devi—"

She plowed on, oblivious to my rising panic. "I'd heard the rumors, but I never really thought ... Tehlu's tits and teeth, I should have known the minute you walked through my door! What kind of backwoods trouper strolls into town and immediately hunts down the most dangerous gaelet around?"

She slapped a hand to her forehead. I would have found the gesture comical, if I hadn't been distracted by the burning shame that was twisting its way through my intestines. "Are you really from Tarbean? Bah, where else? God, but I feel like a proper fool! Nothing personal, Kvothe, but if I'd known what kind of risk I was taking when I took on your loan —"

"You wouldn't have lent me a wooden penny," I finished dourly. "And my corpse would be rotting somewhere between the Omethi and the Reft."

Her eyes widened. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I wouldn't have —"

"I wasn't suggesting you would," I said tersely. "I'd probably have done it myself."

All three of stared at me, their expressions mirror images of horror.

"Kvothe—" Fela started. I stiffened at the look on her face. I hate nothing more than the worthless, hollow feeling of being pitied. I ground my teeth, staring fixedly at the wall.

"I am _not_ discussing this," I said finally. "Can we go back to part of the conversation where everyone was mad at me? Please?"

Suddenly, Fela giggled. Everyone turned to stare at her, and she covered her mouth in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said, fighting back a rueful smile. "It's just … I guess I've really got the wrong end of the stick this time, don't I?"

Mola looked equally abashed. "I'm sorry too, Kvothe. It was stupid to think … what I did. Still, I wish you'd explained." She paused. "Though I suppose it isn't really any of my business."

Devi glanced between Fela and Mola in open disbelief. "Well, it is _my_ business," she huffed. "I'm not sorry for what I said." She grinned. "Of course, I'm not sorry for being your friend, either. I suppose it makes no difference to me whether you're a thieving Ruh or just a thieving thief."

"I _am_ Edema Ruh," I said fiercely. "Down to my bleedin bones." I threw in Tarbean's signature epithet for Devi's benefit, and she clapped delightedly in recognition.

"Ha! I knew being your hawk would come in handy. Tell me, are you better with locks or pockets?"

"I can't imagine what you mean," I said easily. Banter with Devi was always a cure-all for my bad moods. "And I don't recall owing you any money."

"More's the pity. I don't suppose I could convince you to take a small loan? I'd lower my minimum, just for you."

"I'm touched," I said, smiling in earnest now. "But I'd rather light a book on fire in front of Lorren. I'd rather stand against the iron law again, for that matter. Naked and bound."

"Are you certain? They might gag you this time."

Fela coughed. "Not to interrupt the convoluted mating rituals of the Imre underground, but we should probably get back on topic."

I sighed. "Do we have to?"

"Yes, do we have to?" Devi added.

Fela frowned. "I guess not. I just …" She took a deep breath. "Okay, I just have one thing to say."

I grimaced. "If you must."

She walked forward, cupping my jaw in her hands and looking me square in the eye. "Living alone is no way to live, Kvothe," she said seriously. "Carrying all that pain inside you, never letting it out … it's going to kill you."

I gave her my best trouper smile, resting my hands atop hers. "Thank you for the warning, Fela. But really, there's no need."

"Kvothe, you don't understand —"

"No," I said gently. "_You_ don't understand." I squeezed her hands. "I was alone for a long time. When I lived in Tarbean, and … before. There were times in my life, in my childhood, when I was truly, completely, terribly alone. But I'm _not_ alone anymore. Not the way I was." I glanced around at my captors and grinned wryly. "Tehlu crush me, I'm about as far from alone right now as a man can get."

Fela smiled at that. She moved to withdraw her hands, but I held them fast. "Wait," I said sharply, suddenly serious. "One more thing." I fixed her with the fiercest stare I could muster. I pitched my voice deep. I wanted her to feel thunder when I spoke. She drew back, suddenly startled.

I imagined I could reach into her with my eyes. That I could wrap my hands around her lungs and speak her true name. "The truth of me," I intoned. "It is mine, and mine alone. Don't go looking for it." She started to protest, and I tightened my grip on her wrists. "Swear it, Fela. Swear on the moon. Swear on your name."

She bit her lip. "Okay," she said softly. "I swear."

I stared down the others. "You too," I said. "Both of you."

"Of course," Mola said. Her eyes were wide.

Devi just wiggled her eyebrows at me. "Devi …" I warned.

"I'm sure we can reach an arrangement. I could use a half decent cardsharp."

Fela and Mola took a deep breath in unison, as if the air had left the room for a moment and only just returned. I raised my eyebrows at Devi. "Forget it," I said finally, releasing Fela's wrists. I rubbed my temples. "Now piss off and let me sleep."

Fela held back for a moment, staring at me with her head cocked. Embarrassed by the attention, I opened my mouth to say something clever. While I was making up my mind about what to say, however, she made up her own. She rushed forward, throwing her arms around my neck. I stiffened at the contact. She took this as a cue to hug me harder, and I had to blink away a sudden welling of tears. "I'm sorry about earlier," she said warmly. "Try to get some sleep tonight."

Mola hovered behind Fela. She, too, seemed unsure what to say. "You're pretty good with your tongue, too," she said finally, surprising us both. Her cheeks colored fetchingly, but she smiled easily enough after she said it. She and Fela left together. I wondered what Anker would think.

Devi prowled towards me after they were gone, smiling wickedly. She leaned in close to tuck a few stray hairs behind my ear. She smelled good, like rosewater and citrus. I tried not to notice. She leaned in closer. I decided it wouldn't hurt to enjoy the sensation a little, seeing as I didn't owe her money any longer.

"You know, I spent some time in Tarbean a few years back," she sighed against my throat. She smiled against my skin, laughing when I flushed visibly. "Good business. Good fun, too." I jumped as her hand snaked down my chest to my thigh. She pressed her fingertips to the hilt of the dagger strapped to my leg. "You know where to find me, if you ever get homesick."

She danced away then, grinning and pointing her pocket blade at me. "Or if you ever just want a rematch." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, my regulars are boring me silly. I could use the company. Besides, I'll admit—I'm fairly _burning_ with curiosity about all your new talents."

I smiled in spite of myself, eyeing her strawberry hair. "I don't know, Devi. My mother warned me never to play with fire."

She laughed. "Oh, I'm not the one setting fires," she said, and slipped out the door after the others.

Once I was sure they were well and truly gone, I tucked away my lute. I latched my window, bolted the door, and collapsed onto my wonderfully, blessedly _solid_ bed.

_Women_, I thought helplessly, lying awake in the deepening darkness. I fell asleep to the lingering feel of Devi's lips on my throat.


End file.
